


The Root's Mark

by Sometimesyagottasin



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Game)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Gen, I'm surprised I'm using that tag, Mpreg, Multi, Pregnancy, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 08:04:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20597450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sometimesyagottasin/pseuds/Sometimesyagottasin
Summary: “Do you really wish for them to come back?”When Zote stumbled upon the den of the old Queen of Hallownest, his quest to spread his glory soon becomes overshadowed by an even bigger plot. Should have kept your mouth shut, Zote!





	1. Prologue

Zote feared for his life. Now, a noble warrior such as himself was rarely scared. As a matter of fact, Zote could count the number of times he’d been truly frighten on his digits. But in this moment, the here and now, Zote felt as if he was going to die. The steady pulsing in his abdomen had grown more and more intense. What once had been a dull ache was now a searing pain. Not to mention he’d chased away the only held he could have in this trying time. 

This was his own fault, wasn’t it? 

“P-please,” he begged his swollen middle, wincing as the carapace burned under his touch. His mind began to fuzz out as another contraction shook his body. The lives underneath pulsed and squirmed, tiny appendages pressing against the taut flesh underneath. “Have mercy on me.”

He wasn’t ready for this. His body wasn’t even supposed to  _ do  _ this. But the queen’s Mark, burned onto his being, didn’t seem to care. His body didn’t seem to care. Any possibilities in stopping this birth were well beyond him. But it still didn’t stop him from groveling.

“Not yet, not yet,” Zote’s voice rose, tears pricking his eyes. His body curled in on itself the best it could. “I t-take it all back! Please! I...I don’t want to do this alone!”

For a few moments, all that answered him was the dull drumming in his ears. All the time he had to prepare, and he’d disregarded it. Gods, he didn’t even believe he was carrying until it was too evident to ignore. Not fully, at least. His mind flickered back to that day, all those months ago. To where this all started...

That day he entered the Queen’s Domain. 


	2. The Garden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I can't believe it took being trapped with some one five times his size for Zote to show some compassion.

The garden seemed to glow as if basked in sunlight. That in itself was odd, considering he was deep underground, but Zote wasn’t one to think on trivial things. No, while it could have been “beautiful” to some, Zote merely made his way through the foliage and ever falling platforms with a scoff. He wasn’t here to sight see, he was here to spread the news of his triumph. After all, he was the champion of the Colosseum! And while that one bug had been so keen on listening to his wisdom, Zote felt as if others should hear his wise words. So no amount of pretty flowers or interesting architecture was going to stop him. It hadn’t in that blasted City of Tears, like gods it would now.

So he had made his way through the foliage of Greenpath, deeper once again into Hallownest. 

It’d been tricky, getting past the spikes and beast the flew about. It was almost too tedious to even continue, but he’d gone so far, why would he give up then? 

At least, that's what he told himself, rather than admitting that he’d gotten lost. By now, none of the paths look familiar. An odd, white shine had taken to most of the plants as well, causing the whole area to seem almost like it was basked in daylight. But he knew better, the humidity was too much to be from above ground. 

“This can’t be Greenpath...can it?” Zote spoke to himself, deciding to push through the foliage instead off continue on the beaten path. Just as he noticed a soft, glowing light in the distance, the branch he held snapped.

Gravity seemed to take over from there, and he was sent tumbling down. The last thing he remembered was the bright light getting closer. A bash into another branch knocked him out cold. 

* * *

_ “My, what a pitiful creature. I hope my roots did lessen your fall. Awake, common bug, I fear my home would make a poor grave.” _

That was the first thing he noticed. That voice, an odd mix of soothing and weary, that pulsed in his head as much as it echoed around the room. He’d never heard a voice like that before, never in that tone of comfort. It startled him awake, having him stumble to his feet before falling backwards onto his end. The world seemed to slowly stop spinning, as he carefully took in his surroundings. 

There was a being before him, shining so brightly that he had trouble looking at her. Were it not for the robes, er,  _ ropes  _ that she wore, he’d may have been blinded entirely. Giving his head a shake, he once again tried to rise to his feet, using his nail as a crutch. 

“Who are you!” Zote demanded first and foremost, his voice a tad raspy from his fall. His body felt sore, more so than his defeat at the coliseum. “More importantly,  _ what  _ are you?! A bug so bright, too bright even.” 

The being’s hazy blue eyes seemed to curl into a smirk, at least that was what Zote guessed, and she let out a harmonious chortle. For some reason, it seemed to spark something with Zote, a memory he quickly squashed down. 

_ “I see, I suppose that much time has passed, that even my legend had faded into the dark.”  _

“Who are you!?” Zote repeated again, drawing his nail with fervor. “The mighty Zote will not be laughed at!” 

_ “Oh, my apologies. I did not mean for my amusement to be at your expense. More so, at the fact that I...Tell me, Common bug, what do you know of our dear kingdom.”  _

“Our dear- You mean this ruined shell of a kingdom?!” Now it was Zote’s turn to scoff, even sneering in disgust. “All I know is that it’s folly came at the hand of a foolish king. Tis a disgusting place, one that is falling ether to beasts or to neglect.” 

For a moment, the being didn’t say anything. The pause was long enough that Zote even opened his eyes to peak at the creature, to see what exactly they were about to do. But he merely saw their blue, clouded eyes, staring off into the distance. When a few more moments passed, he felt himself start to fidget in place. Until, finally, a sigh escaped the being. 

_ “I suppose you are right, common bug,”  _ The being seemed more tired than before, her voice taking on a sorrow Zote had not expected.  _ “Perhaps we were foolish…”  _

Zote felt himself scowling more, wondering if he'd judged this creature wrongly by her voice. But before he could ask, the being continued. 

_ “Hallownest had not always been in disarray. Once, this kingdom was a marvelous paradise, for both bugs and beings alike. Even these gardens, now overgrown and unattended, had once been well kept and filled with joyous visitors. Now, sadly, only you and my spawn make the pilgrimage. And...even they are…”  _

Once again, the being grew silent, her empty blue gaze falling to the ground. Zote merely stared for a moment, before once again letting out a scoff, turning to the small paths before him. He didn’t have time to coddle poor, sad beings. 

“Well, I will leave you to wallow in your sorrow,” Zote spat, starting to try and find an exit now. He peered down the hole, only to see it shoot up beyond his reach. “I have tales to tell.” 

_ “Can you make it out on your own, Common bug?”  _

“My name is Zote!” Zote yelled down the caverns, even though the being’s voice did not decrease in volume. He gripped the vine beginning his accent. “And how dare you assume I can’t!” 

_ “Are… are you certain?”  _

“Yes! Of course I am-” 

Of course, at that moment, Zote felt his grip slip, and once again came tumbling down to the ground below. Letting out a hiss of pain, he scrambled to his feet and tried once more. It would be three more times until he’d ended up falling so hard that his boyd was sent rolling back into the central room. A growl escaped him, feeling his blood boil in this slight. He was the mighty Zote! How dare these plants make a fool of him! Before he could try again, however, he felt something grab his limbs, holding him tightly. When his gaze fell down, however, he felt his entire body freeze in fear. 

Glowing roots, or what he assumed were such, reached out from the ground. As one had snagged his leg, the other had managed to wrap around his body, keeping him firm in place. 

_ “Please stop,”  _ the being, now looking at him with pity, begged. Zote felt another twinge within him, and his face heated up in embarrassment.  _ “I do not wish to see you bludgeon yourself in an effort to-”  _

“U-unhand me! Beast! Cur!” 

_ “Please just-” _

“I will draw my nail upon you, I’ll do it!” 

At that, he felt the roots tighten, rising up to wrap around his mouth, silencing him. 

_ “Rethink your tone, common bug.”  _

A few moments passed, and the roots soon left Zote’s mouth. He stared at the being before him, feeling a weird mix of fear and...well, something else. However, it did allow Zote for a rare moment of clarity. 

“...My name is Zote,” Zote tried again, still holding a glare upon his face. Although by now, he figured it was useless, seeing as the being was blind. “Let go of me. It is not warrior like to be held.” 

_ “That was better.”  _ And with that, Zote was slowly lowered back to the ground, even receiving a condescending pat on his head.  _ “Now, I will call for my knight, she will escort you out of the gardens. Please just sit still.”  _

And so Zote did, while both were unaware that no knight would come. 

* * *

It was roughly three hours before Zote would try again to leave the being’s home. And much like before, the same cycle would repeat itself. He would fall, the Root, as he’d soon taken to calling her, would catch him, and she would vainly call for her knight. 

“Your knight seems to have left you,” He’d finally declared, bitterly after he was dragged back inside. 

_ “She would not,”  _ The Root responded back, her tone now less cordial and more strained. He had no idea why. All he’d done was tell her about his awe inspiring adventures, after all.  _ “Draya was the most loyal out of my court. She must be busy, simply.”  _

“If she’s so busy ignoring you, then why don’t you push her awake?” Zote groused, turning to face the paths once more. “Surly your roots stretch that far.” 

_ “...no.”  _

“No?” What do you mean no?!” 

_ “I do not wish to bother her,”  _ The Root replied curtly, closing her eyes and turning her head away from Zote. The roots embedded in the ceiling shifted with her, causing dirt to scattered about as well.  _ “She will heed my call when she is able.”  _

“What a load of rubbish!” Zote yelled, tossing his nail angrily at the floor. Life ended bounced carelessly abandoned, not even piercing the soft moss below. “Do you want me to leave or not?!” 

_ “You have no right to speak to me in such a-”  _

“I have just a right as any bug.” Zote declared, making his stand. “After all, no one, not beast or bug, can stop the fierce Zote from doing whatever he wishes! And I wish to leave, seeing as you fail to acknowledge my wisdom!” 

_ “...Well, I would acknowledge your wisdom if you possessed any.”  _

With that, Zote went for his nail, rage sending his body into a frenzy. However, the Root had already claimed the weapon from the ground, holding it far too high for Zote to reach. 

“Give me back my weapon, Cur!” 

_ “Learn some manners, common bug.”  _

“My name is Zote!” 

* * *

Draya did not come. Not when Zote was awake, that was. As the hours drew on, Zote found himself having a hard enough time staying awake. Even though he tried his best, with all he could, he couldn’t bother to keep his eyes open after so long. 

So leaning against the wall, Zote found himself drifting off into a dreamless sleep. 

It was only the next day, when his belly groaned in hunger, that he awoke to hear something else.

Gentle sobs, as if one was trying to muffle them, echoed from the being before him. Her light had dimmed, flickering with the rise and fall of her form. Dirt carefully rained down from above, creating a fine dust around them. 

Zote tried to ignore it for a while, but his hunger gave out. Drats, he didn’t want to be apart of this. 

“What has gotten you in a somber mood...Well, more somber than usual,” Zote griped, rising to his feet as he made his way over. The Root stiffened, quickly trying to blink the few tears she had in her eyes away. 

_ “...Dryya is gone.”  _

“Ha! As I thought! No knight is worth anything if they are loyal to anyone but them-” 

Zote was going to speak more, however, he felt something grab him by his neck and shoved him into the back wall. Letting out a gasp for air, Zote felt pale white roots tighten around his body, constricting him once more. 

_ “She is  _ ** _dead_ ** _ , you heartless thing!”  _ The being cried out, and for once Zote saw something other than content or sorrow in the Root’s eyes. No, now he saw anger. 

Zote felt his words die in his throat, his vision starting to fade just as he felt the root’s grip weaken with a shutter. 

_ “She is dead and I… I had no idea...For so long, she had remained up there, and I…”  _

A sob escaped the Root, so much so that Zote watched as her mouth opened from the milky void of her being and began to wail. It took Zote a moment, just a few, to gather himself. Normally, he wouldn’t feel anything for the cries of another. But something about her, the way she seemed to curl in on herself…

It reminded Zote of himself, at a time…

By now, most of the roots once connected to the ceiling has been freed, and almost like a grub, the Root sobbed into her self. Zote, carefully untangling himself from the root’s limp grasp, made his way towards her face. Oh boy, how to do this…

“Ah, uh...there, there,” he replied, gently patting where the Root’s bindings began. “No need to cry. You said you had spawn, yes? They will be here soon to see you?” 

That seemed to do something, as the Root opened her eyes slightly at his words. However, more and more tears poured.

_ “Even if my Spawn still walked this world, I would not deserve them. No, with Dryya gone, I am alone...as i should be.”  _

Rising slightly, Zote stumbled back as the Root looked directly at him, and for a moment, he foolish though she was staring into his very soul. 

_ “After all, what kind of mother kills her own children?” _

Zote didn’t really know what to say to that, and so he didn’t say anything at all. He watched as the Root’s tears stain the moss below, he wondered exactly what did he wander onto...

* * *

Each day, Zote would try to climb the vines. Each day, he would get higher and higher, but inevitably fall. Each day, Zote grew stronger. 

By now, he’d lost track of how long he’d been in the burrow. It could have been a week, it could have been longer. He did, however, know who the Root was now. 

A queen. A queen to a kingdom of ruin, but a queen no less. 

They talked, whenever Zote would rest or train. To keep their sanity, they had too. After all, it was clear that being alone for some time had messed with the Root’s head slightly. At least, that's what Zote figured. He had learned all about Hallownest, from it’s beginnings with the Pale Wyrm to its fall with the Radiance. 

It was odd, seeing has he’d never once talked to someone who was actual royalty. Not that he’d ever say that, but his perceptions were both correct as well as incorrect. She was cordial, when she wished to be, regal even though she kept those silly bindings one, and strangely enough, kind and compassionate. 

It was sometimes hard to remember that this was the woman who’d allowed her spawn to wallow and die in the bowls the kingdom. It was even more odd, when he found himself making excuses for the very incident. 

After all, there were times where she got on his nerves. 

_ “That did not happen.” _

“I swear it did! You dare call the Mighty Zote a liar?!” 

Having finished his attempt for the day, Zote had been explaining his story of how he became the champion of the Colosseum of Fools to the Queen. He was in the middle of his reenactment, Life Ender held high, just as the Root called him out on his bluff. Once again, he felt his cheeks blush with embarrassment, turning to face her. 

_ “Zote, that nail is made of Shellwood,”  _ The Root deadpanned, her eyes narrowed in a slightly unimpressed gaze.  _ “Even if you wished to, you could scarcely harm a newborn.”  _

“Ha! See, that is what everyone believes, but with my expert swordsmanship, any fool would be rendered to pieces by my nail!” Zote replied with ease, even striking a pose that would go unnoticed. And once again, he heard the Root laugh, listening to it echo around the chamber. “You laugh at me! Vile queen.” 

However, Zote couldn’t even bother to find himself upset. Her voice, it sounded like a melody onto which he found himself soothed. It was better than her tears, he’d admit. When did that happen, hm? When did he start to care?

_ “Cruel as I may, at least I keep you fed,”  _ The Root replied, plucking one of her Root off from the rest and passing it to Zote. Zote took the offering without a second thought, tasting the sweet sap hidden within it’s glowing remains. 

When it became apparent that Zote would need to eat in order to survive, the Root had suggested this very idea. However, Zote held out for two more days due to how disgusted he’d been by the thought. He’d felt outraged that he’d been reduced to eating the bits of a person, one that was talking to him at that. However, he remembered how sweet the first taste had been, and hadn’t denied his helpings sense. 

“As a good Host should,” Zote mumbled, taking a seat in the nest of moss and leaves he’d made. His continued on his meal in silence, letting the queen’s laugh soothe his wounded pride. 

* * *

Time went on. He’d managed to get past the first ledge, but by the second he would once again lose his grip. Still, it told them all they needed to know. He’d be out soon. Or, well, he’d be able to leave...

Zote found himself not enjoying the idea as much as he had before. 

“The town of Dirtmouth is small, but by now it’s the only place that isn’t crawling with beasts.” Zote, having taken to talking to the Queen about how the rest of Hallownest was fairing, felt it important to mention the town. She’d been in a somber mood once again, and Zote just couldn’t stand to feel that, now could he. “Some old fool, goes by the name Elderbug seems to be there to steer those away from the rest of the kingdom.” 

_ “I thought all of the roads leading into Hallownest were sealed. At least, from the surface,”  _ The Root questioned, her blank gaze turning towards the ceiling. 

“A well was emptied, it’s been the main way to enter or leave nowadays. Well, until that whelp brought down that blasted elevator. Granted the rails had been rusted away to be of any use. Of course they seemed to use those paths just fine, apparently.” Zote groaned, returning to his task to sharpen Life Ender. Even though now he knew it was a foolish task. He didn’t find himself caring, as it gave him something to do while he’d rest. He’d surprisingly ran out of things to say. 

_ “Whelp? What Whelp?”  _

“Oh you know! The little annoying one, with the shiny nail and the blank stare and-” 

Zote paused, realizing that the Queen wouldn’t be able to understand him, sadly. If they’d met, she’d probably scarcely notice he was there. Likewise, the Knight had been so silent, he’d probably be to daft to-

_ “Tell me, how blank was their gaze?”  _

“...How so?” Zote asked, head tilted to look up at the Root. Her face was unreadable. 

_ “As if they was nothing beyond their mask, almost as if they were empty inside?”  _

Zote’s brow furled, and he quickly stood up. “Don’t tell me you could see all this time?!” 

_ “...I can’t, but…”  _ The Queen lowered her gaze, and once again a somber look appeared on her face.  _ “Can you tell me more about them, dear Zote? Please?”  _

“Wha- about them?! Surly you…” Zote paused, eyes narrowing in on the desperation of her voice. He felt his annoyance fade away when he saw the longing in her eyes. “...Well, alright. But this is only what I’ve heard.” 

And so he told her all he knew. From the knights questionable origins to their first meeting and so on. So he embellished the truth here and there, but by now the Queen had stopped trying to prod him for the truth, settling on listening to his tales. She chuckled, she sighed, and by the end of it all, well, she hadn’t said a word. 

“Yes, it surprised me as well when they challenged me in the Colosseum. However they were no match for me, and I allowed them to leave with their life. After all, they were young. They needed to learn how to be a proper warrior. Why, I bet by the time we cross paths they’ll be singing my praises!” Zote beamed, taking a small solace in the entirely not true reality that that could take place. After all, they had wiped the floor with him so hard he’d-

_ “The knight is dead. We will not see them again.”  _

Zote felt the air leave his lungs, sending him sputtering. 

“What?!” 

When the Root didn’t say anything more, Zote scrambled to his feet, now twice as shocked. 

“Impossible! How could they...what...how would you know?!” 

_ “I told you, my spawn was dead. Their souls lay in the bottom of Hallownest, resting eternal.”  _ The Root cooed, so tenderly, far to tenderly for his liking. It made him want to scream.  _ “Thus was their sacrifice for saving this kingdom, and may more beyond-”  _

“Liar!” 

The Root stopped, turning to Zote with a shocked gaze on her face. He couldn’t stop himself, however. 

“Who gave a damn about the rest of the world! How am I supposed to fight them again?! How am I supposed to prove myself! That blasted bug, they’d been following me all the way, being better than me! And now...And now they….” 

For some reason, tears started to cloud Zote’s vision. All that time. All that time he’d insulted them, lied to them, disregarding their help. And after they beat him in the Colosseum, he turned the very people who loved him against him? 

And they still went on to save the world? After everything that...

_ “Zote…” _

“You!” Zote pointed at the Root, feeling tears start to stream down his face. “You’re a higher being?! Why don’t you simply bring them back!” 

_ “Zote I can’t-”  _

“Rubbish!” Zote yelled, feeling like a child throwing a tantrum. “You could do it! If you weren't so scared, I bet you could bring them back in the snap of a twig!” 

_ “Stop.”  _

“But no, you’re afraid of what they’d think of you, aren’t you?!” he felt his body shaking, the anger stored up in him for so long, the regret and guilt that washed over him in waves, it was all becoming too much. “You know they’d hate you, so you just let them stay dead!” 

Ever familiar, Zote felt the Root press him into the wall. He felt the air rush out of his lungs, but this time his anguished stayed. God, he was acting so pathetic, crying over someone he barely cared about when they were alive. He should have known better. After all, wasn’t one of his Precepts to keep to oneself? Gods, he’d forgotten it so long ago…

_ “Do you really wish for them to come back?”  _

“...what?” 

The question had caught Zote off guard, his brow furling as he tried to figure out what the Root said. 

_ “If there was a way to bring them back, would you do it?”  _ The Root asked once more, slowly, calmly, gently. 

Zote stared, before allowing himself to nod. After a few moments, he felt a soothing haze wash over him. His anguish and hatred melted away, slipping into sadness. The Root pulled him close, closer than he’d even been before. She’d told him to keep his distance, back when he’d just arrived. 

_ “I do too,”  _ The Root hummed, comfortingly, and Zote found himself vibrating from on top of the Root’s binds. Light began to peek through, just as the ropes started to untethered. Zote mind felt to mush, whirling from surprise to shock to mild concern. 

“Wha...what are you...doing?” He tried to get the words out, but it felt as if a fog had overcame him. He was laid down into the moss below as the Queen stood tall above him, pulling herself gently from the ceiling. 

_ “I keep these binds on, as they keep my power in check,”  _ The Root cooed, gently lifting Zote chin with a stray branch. Her hands, oh they were her hands. They were so soft.  _ “But now that I have found you, I can finally try something I have been waiting to use. A certain spell. Mighty Zote, will you enact this ritual with me?”  _

His heart was beating a mile a minute, his body was both hot and cold, and needed to be touched. He needed  _ her _ touch…

He nodded, and his mind went blank…

  
  


* * *

It was roughly a week later that Zote was able to think straight. He only realized it had been a week when the Root had told him that was how long the ritual took. However, that hadn’t startled him the most, out of everything. No, what shook him to his very core was the new marking etched onto his body, specifically his stomach. It seemed like a brand, almost burned into his shell, but not so. 

“Will this be here forever?” He’d asked, after replenishing on the sweet clippings of his...what was she now? Mate? She didn’t act like it now. Friend? He supposed that was the case. 

_ “It looks dashing on you, does it not?”  _ The Root replied, smiling with her eyes as she attempted to wrap herself up once more.  _ “I was worried it would not take…”  _

“How exactly is this supposed to bring that clumsy oaf back?” Zote asked, quickly swallowing a mouthful of sap. 

_ “You will have to go to where the Knight had fallen, _ ” The Root explained, closing her eyes.  _ “In the temple of the black egg, deep within it’s shell. Once there, the mark will do the rest…”  _

“If it’s that simple, how com you don’t do it?” 

_ “It shouldn’t be me, It...it can’t be me...If you really want to make it up to them, then I will allow it to be you, my friend.”  _

Zote paused, feeling his heart skip a beat at the word. Friend. He had a friend. When was the last time he’d ever had a friend before?

“...When they come back, I’ll bring them here,” he finally said, getting ready to make his attempt to climb the vines again. “I...I promise.” 

And the Root laughed that bittersweet laugh, and Zote felt himself fill with energy to make that promise count.

He still felt surprised at how easily he was able to leave the nest this time, climbing out with energy to spare…

* * *

Just as the Queen had said, Zote made his way to the Black Egg. It was odd, however, as he almost felt like he was being guided there on his own. If the ritual had something to do with this, he didn’t know. All he knew was that heading inside the temple seemed to feel, well, right. And so he did, unaware of all the thread laid about, twitching as he shuffled in. 

While the corridor was dark, he could feel a gentle thrumming from deep inside the egg. It only echoed and crescendo with each step, guiding him in the right direction. However, once he made it to the center, Zote willed himself to freeze. 

Before him were two graves, marked by their nail and masks laid upon them. They were simple graves, but the fact that they were left undisturbed spoke volumes. However, Zote wasn’t the type of bug to pay his respects. No, he merely waited...and waited...and waited… 

“Well?” He looked down at his belly, a scowl growing on his face. “C’mon now! Bring them-“ 

Suddenly, something darted just out of his view. Zote’s gaze darted up, and he spun around. Pulling Life Ender out, he took a fighting stance, trying to put his back against a wall. Yet just before he could, he felt a chill run up his spine. 

Shivering, Zote spun around, only to find nothing there. 

Then he felt it, a stabbing, searing pain in his belly. Snapping his gaze down, Zote saw two black tendrils being absorbed by the mark, it’s bright glow illuminating the room. His body felt like it was dunked in ice, sending him shivering and shaking. But just as quickly as it had happened, it was over. 

Taking in deep breaths of air, Zote stumbled onto his back, his vision blurring. Before he went out completely, a pair of legs, and the hint of a red cloak, came into his hazed view. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want everyone to know this could have been Quirrel had I not had the foresight to use Zote in this. Whether this is a pleasing or a curse, that's up to you.
> 
> Also I did not originally intend for the mark transfer to be that horny™, but I am weak. I am however, a coward who would not write the actual scene out, so if you actually wanted a steamy Zote/White lady scene just leave a message and I'll see what I can do.


	3. The Beast, the Elder, and the unknowing Carrier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zote's body gets use to void.   
Hornet gets a migraine and talks to his Father's Wife.   
Elderbug does his best.

Everything felt hazy. His head pounded and his ear rang. Zote felt sick to his stomach, and had no idea where he was. All he could make out was the muffled chattered that echoed in the back of his mind. Idly, he curled in on himself, his guts seemingly burning and freezing all at once.

The moment he tried too, however, something swatted his hand away. 

Zote made an effort to open his eyes, his vision slowly coming back to him.  A horned beast stood above him, her gaze narrowed in what was disgust. Behind her, Zote thought he could make out the sight of the Elderbug, cautiously hiding behind the doorway. Wait, doorway? Where…

“He’s alive,” Elderbug chittered, more startled than anything. 

“Wha...of course I…” Zote slurred, his mouth felt like it was filled with cotton. He needed something to drink. He flailed on the bed, trying to look for something to quench his thirst. However, he was stopped by the beast, her needle piercing the blanket inches from his face. “...oh.” 

“M-miss!” Came Elderbug’s shrill cry, but of course, he didn’t intervene.

“Listen carefully, thief,” the beast growled, and suddenly Zote recalled a rumor he heard. About a monster clad in red. “You have ten seconds to explain to me where obtained that brand. Speak quickly if you value your life.” 

“How dare  _ you _ ,” came Zotes first words, as he clumsily made an effort to shove the needle away from his side. It was quickly withdrawn and place at his neck. “I got it from the Root. Simple as that.” 

“Liar.” The beast spat, pressing her needle upon the softness of his neck. He felt it prick the chitin, but he was too ill to pull away. Damn it all, he’d actually prefer dying then feeling this sick. 

“The mighty Zote does not  _ lie _ ,” Zote lied, eyes narrowing in disgust. “She...she said it was for...the ritual.” 

“...what ritual,” The beast muttered, leaning so close to Zote that he could see the nicks in her mask. No doubt, worn from battle. 

“Get me some water, and I will tell you the rest,” Zote groused, already hearing his voice turn into more of a rasp them before. The beast continued her glare, but the foolish Elderbug had already scampered off, no doubt to fulfill his request. It gave him time to take in his surroundings. 

The room seemed familiar, and he recalled seeing the bed from outside of this house, once. What really gave it away was the dresser filled with dolls and masks and such. Ah, the girl… 

What was her name again? 

Britta? Betty? 

“Here, drink.”

Zotes thoughts were halted by the dew drop thrusted towards his mouth. The leaf it held already tipped to poor. Zote turned to see that the beast had backed away, leaving only Elderbug before him. if his thirst didn’t out rival his disgust, he’d had taken the leaf for himself. 

It didn’t quench anything, but it would do. For now, at least. 

“You got your drink, now speak.” The Beast commanded, and Zote scowled back at her. 

“Ah, quite the rude beast, aren’t you?” 

The Beast made a move to draw her needle once more, but this time Elderbug stepped in, holding his hands up between her and the bed. 

“Uh, h-here. Let me try, miss…” he sheepishly muttered, no doubt cowering like the weakling he was. Still, he turned to Zote with that same friendly look on his face. “I apologize, it’s just, well...it was a real shock, seeing you near the graves. The poor miss thought you were another grave robber! We’ve been having to deal with those lately, sadly.” 

Zote narrowed his eyes even more, before reaching his arm feebly out. After a few moments of flailing, it landed on the Elderbug’s and he stopped his rambling. 

“...First of all, the Mighty Zote never robs graves,” Zote lied once again, recounting the multiple times he’d nicked objects left at graves. It wasn’t as if he enjoyed the task, but he did as such to survive. “Second, I received it from the Queen herself.” 

“I beg your pardon?!” 

“You heard me right!” Zote declared, his pride radiating off of him. He even sat up a little higher, soreness be damned. “The very Queen of Hallownest bestowed this mark upon me. Naturally, she would have chosen me, as there is none a bug more courageous, more cunning, more worthy than Zote to resurrect the fallen Knight! After all, I-”

“Resurrect?!” Elderbug sputtered, quickly making his way over. Zote tried to recoil from the bugs reach, but the old fool was already there. His hands landed on Zote head, trying to feel past his mask no doubt. “My, are you running a fever as well?” 

“I am not sick!” Zote yelled, before wincing as his head proceeded to pound. “Alright...maybe I am a little unwell, but that was after I...I entered the cavern.” 

The memory came back in flashes to Zote. The tendrils, the pain, the figure. He turned to the Beast, seeing as she hadn’t moved from her spot this entire time. 

“You, you were there when I-” 

“I was,” The beast nodded, the curtness of it all still showing her true feelings. “If resurrection was your desire, then you’d been fooled, weakling.” 

“Fooled?!  _ Weakling?!”  _ Zote was already making a move to give the monster a piece of his mind, but his stomach clenched and he fell back into the bed with a groan. “Z-Zote the Mighty is not weak! I am...I am-”

Again he could feel it, his vision fading. Quickly, he made a grab at the Elderbug, pulling the blithering bug towards him. 

“Listen to me,” Zote commanded, his mind going dark. “I speak the truth. The ritual must have been disturbed by that  _ beast _ . Ether take me back to the egg, or...take me to the gardens. This...this needs too…” 

And like that, Zote was out cold. Elderbug had made a show of nodding along to the demands, but once he was certain that Zote was unconscious, and only that, he pulled away. A sigh escaped him, one of relief that their new “mystery bug”, was quieted. 

“This one had always told tall tale,” Elderbug replied, stepping next to the young miss and a hushed tone. “Honestly, if it wasn’t for the mark, I wouldn’t have entertained his ideas at all.” 

“But you still did,” The Miss noted, giving Zote once last glare before turning back to the Elder. Her eyes lingered on his belly, the mark glowing dimly. “Granted, there may be truth to his words.” 

“Wha- You don’t mean...was he really going to resurrect the-”

“No, death marks the end of life. No one, not higher being or bug, can escape it’s claim.” She made her way out of the hut, out towards the streets of Dirtmouth. Elderbug followed, but at the distance he’d been most comfortable with. After all, he’d only met this “Hornet” sparingly. “However...he still has the queen’s brand.” 

“So, that part was true? Heavens does that make him the queen?! I don’t think Dirtmouth could handle-”

Before he could ramble any longer, Elderbug was stopped as Hornet launched herself towards the well, sailing away in the blink of an eye. He felt his words die in his throat and settle into mild worries. Ah, well, what was he expecting. These questions rarely were answered directly. Turning back to the house, and the bug that occupied within, Elderbug decided to settle in. Whatever was going on, it clearly had taken its toll on the poor fool. 

And, well...Elderbug was getting rather sick of watching poor bugs meet there end. 

* * *

Making her way to the Queen’s garden was easy for Hornet. She knew the paths like the grooves on her Needle. More importantly, she knew exactly how to bypass the shade gate near the start of the path. As she swooped and swung through the air, her mind raced with what could possibly wait before her. 

Her first thought had been the White Lady, dead and cold. That was how the little Ghost obtained their brand. However, if that was the case, then that little weakling scarcely had the right to even  _ have _ her brand, let alone declare he’d been put on a mission. No, for her to die suddenly, a month after their sibling was freed? It was too much of a coincidence. 

But to put  _ that  _ bug in charge of reviving the knight? 

Why? 

Her question would soon be answered, no doubt, when she arrived. 

Making it to the clearing, Hornet passed the stagnant body of Dryya, forever on guard, forever at rest. She gave the corpse only a nod, as one fellow warrior to another, before making her way inside. The last time she’d been here Dryya had been alive, but waning. Perhaps that was why Hornet hadn’t bothered to return to this place. 

Cowardly, wasn’t it…

_ “Ah, the Gendered child arrives. What a pleasant surprise.”  _ Came a voice, one she hadn’t heard from in an age. She didn’t hesitate, nor did she scamper towards the center as she’d done in her youth. She merely walked her normal pace, emerging into the light of the White Lady.

Not much had changed. Her eyes had finally finished their clouding, but that was to be expected. She did seem slightly dimmer than before, her glow having diminished either by time or by…

“What have you done now?” Hornet demand, her tone soft but blunt. She need not show anger at her, as there was no point. It wasn’t as if she could make the White Lady fear her, nor would she really wish too. She did, however, want to know what the being had planned.

_ “Why, whatever do you mean?”  _

“Don’t play coy,” Hornet was already making her way towards the Queen, her tone now bordering it’s annoyance. “That bug, the one your branded? Why?” 

_ “Why did I brand? Or why did I brand him?”  _

“Root.” Hornet warned, her voice edging on a growl. “You know what I mean. I do not need you cryptically skirting around my questions.” 

_ “Very well then,”  _ Rising up to her full height, or as much as she could in the burrow, The White lady cleared her throat.  _ “He needed my brand in order to bring our kin back into this world.”  _

Hornet’s knee jerk reaction was to call out the lie, but she knew when to stop herself. After all, it wasn’t like the White Lady to lie. Hornet took a seat on a stone, gazing up at her father’s wife. However, this meant that the little weakling had been telling the truth. Ugh. 

“...How?”

_ “Why, the same way all things come into this world.”  _

Hornet stared. 

The White Lady continued. 

_ “I had thought of the idea many years ago, after all, it wouldn’t be the first time a higher being was reborn. But I will shamefully admit, I lacked the conviction to go through with it. After all, who would be willing to-” _

“Oh gods, you’re serious,” Hornet blanched, realizing that the White lady had not been joking at all. 

_ “Well of course I am. Tis a serious ritual, bestowing that power onto another. What, you believe that I would give it to any common bug that stumbled into my domain?” _

“...but you did,” Hornet groaned, placing her head in her hands. “Worse, you gave it to a bug who’s pride may be bigger than all of Hallownest.” 

_ “You think I made a mistake, yes?”  _ The White lady chuckled, and now Hornet regretted even coming here in the first place.  _ “While he would not have been my first choice, I believe this will do him some good. Consider this a lesson in humility for him, something to learn from.”  _

Neither bug said anything for a moment, two more. Hornet knew they both had more to say, but didn’t bother to ask her question. Still, it hung there, in the air, on both their minds. Why not the White Lady herself? Why push this duty onto someone else? Surely she would be better suited for this task. They were her spawn after all. 

But that was precisely why she refused, wasn’t it. They had been her children, once. She already had her chance to intervene, to stop the bloodshed, to save them, once. 

And she failed. 

Did she really deserve to be their mother, after all that she failed to do? 

_ “You have no duty to him, Gendered child,”  _ The White Lady cooed as tendril gently brushed the side of Hornet’s mask.  _ “You have a Kingdom to restore, should you so choose. Or if you wish to be free of this lands entirely, I blame you not.” _

“...Liar,” Hornet muttered, not bother to pull away, but refusing to lean into the touch. “They are my kin, are they not? You are not the only one who owes them a debt.”

A sigh escaped the White Lady, and before Hornet understood, a small bundle of root snippings was held out to her. 

_ “In that case, let me tell you what you need to know…”  _

* * *

The fever had broken. At least, that was what Elderbug told her when she returned. Zote still laid, slumbering peacefully in bed, unaware of the two very lives he carried. It was two, the Root had sensed as such. In all honesty, it still left her feeling ill, knowing what was to happen. 

But she kept that to herself, for now at least. 

Now that she thought about it, she had only seen this blundering oaf from a distance. If they had crossed paths, well he surely wouldn’t be here today, now would he? No, she easily avoided him, as his loud boasting was all but a warning from the useless blathering to come. 

A scowl grew on her face as she thought about this fool being a parent. It made her shiver in disgust, fearful that her kin would end up just like him, ming mindless Zotes. No, she was going to stay as close as she could. If he even wanted to keep them, then she would be close by to steer them away from that path. Or, well, she’d probably guide from the shadows. She didn’t know if she had the patience for children. After all, the last time she’d even been near a child was ages ago…

Suddenly, Zote seemed to awaken with a start. Hornet turned her gaze to the bug, watching as he let loose a yawn and weakly rubbed his eyes. His gaze fell on Hornet, and the fool almost jumped out of the bed. 

“Y-you?! What are you still doing here, beast!” 

“I spoke to the Root,” Hornet replied smoothly, rising to her feet. “What you said was true.” 

“Wha- of course it was!” Zote yelled, crossing his arms as he shifted off of the bed. Hes legs seemed to give out, however, and he was sent kneeling to the floor. “Ah, blast it, what have you done to me?!” 

“I didn’t do anything, oaf,” Hornet scowled, quickly puncturing Zotes cloak with her needle and lifting him back into the bed. He squirmed for a moment, but the soreness of his body stopped him. 

“Liar, I feel like death,” Zote groaned, curling in on himself once more. He opened his mouth to complain some more, but was stopped when a familiar sweetness filled his mouth. Eyes widening, he caught sight of a pale, white root. “Mhph?!” 

“Eat. It will help with the pain,” Hornet ordered. 

For a moment, it seemed as if Zote was about to rebel. Or, heaven forbid, argue with her about her order. However the sweetness of the sap seemed to work its magic, and his once outraged gaze faded into a simple annoyance. Hornet sent a silent pray to the White Lady. 

He’d scarfed down three and was on his fourth when he finally decided to speak again. His voice still hazed by the sap. It was more to himself than anything, however. “The whelp should be here...did the ritual fail? I did what was asked…” 

Hornet paused for a moment. Two possible options presented to her. She needed Zote to stay, specifically in Dirtmouth. The less danger he was in, the less likely the spawn would be damaged. And the more likely they would take. But would he believe her, or would she have to take him to the White Lady herself? Perhaps she should have done so earlier. 

“...The ritual will take time,” Hornet decided, as it wasn’t truth or lie. “You will need to go there daily, until they return. If they do not arrive within a month, I will take you to the White Lady and we will renew the ritual.” 

“Hm? And how would you know, beast?” Zote asked, gaze already squinting as she worked on polishing her needle. 

“I asked the Queen. Where did you think I gather those roots from?” Hornet replied smoothly, not even bothering to meet his gaze. And once again, they waited to see which one would cave…

“...Well, then...I better go try again, until they come back,” Zote grumbled, finishing the fourth root and making another go at leaving the bed. Hornet stopped him once more, this time with her glare. 

“Don’t even try it,” She muttered, rising to her feet. “You’re still too weak to make another trip. Not to mention the days almost over. Try again tomorrow, that’s an order.” 

“An order?! And who are you to demand as such?!”

“The rightful ruler of Hallownest,” Hornet replied, before turning away to leave the room. It gave Zote just enough time to process what she said before an indignant “WHAT?!” echoed from behind her. 

Hornet’s gaze caught Elderbug’s, as he had come to relieve her of her shift, it seemed.   
  
"Ah, how is he-" Elderbug began, but Hornet was already darting past him. 

“I'll be back in a week,” was all she said, and she made her way to the well once more. She had to speak to a few other bugs on this matter.   
Perhaps she should have stayed, perhaps she should have told him the truth. But she was already trying to keep the shard of this hollow kingdom from collapsing in on themselves. 

Surly the Elder could handle Zote for now. 

Hopefully. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I didn't exactly like this chapter, but I've decided that if i antagonize over one for too long I'm just going to post what I have and move on. Mostly since this stuffs more self indulgent then anything. Also I've always been fond of the idea that Hornet finally reaches out to Dirtmouth after the Radiance is stopped, getting to know the community that she'd been protecting from the shadows. 
> 
> Elderbug. Oh poor Elderbug.

**Author's Note:**

> You know, we have the ability to write anything we want. Sure, should we? Probably not, but hey, who's going to stop me?


End file.
